DEAN'S RETURN
by PipkinTwo
Summary: Dean thought nothing would have made him happier than returning to the life he ahd before his time in hell. What he found when he came back was not what he had imagined. What had happened to Sam? Reviews are free!
1. Chapter 1

DEAN'S RETURN

DEAN'S RETURN

Chapter 1: Leave me alone.

Dean slowly and with great agony groaned his way back to consciousness. He put his hand up to his face and winced. His mind was foggy and Dean struggled for a brief moment to remember what had attacked him. Then suddenly it hit him – Sam! Sam had hit him, and the way his face felt, Sam had hit him with all he had. Man, he so totally hadn't seen that coming!

Dean sat up groggily, and bit back a grunt of pain as his face felt the sudden movement and complained in every nerve ending Dean possessed. It felt like he had been hit with a metal pipe. The world swam in and out of focus momentarily, and Dean bit back the impulse to curse his brother and his temper.

Dean frowned at that thought. He shook his head and instantly regretted the movement. He slowly pulled himself up the bed, fighting down the urge to throw up what ever remained in his stomach from the previous night. Sighing and breathing deeply, Dean rested his head against the cool of the wall, waiting for the blurring and throbbing in his head to go away. The world finally settled down and he started thinking about Sam, especially the Sam of the last 4 weeks.

There was no doubt about it- Sam had changed from the brother he had known before he had gone …away.

Dean closed his eyes and mentally replayed the events of that morning, hoping for some idea about what had set Sam off into his attack.

Dean's head slowly slipped dropped down to rest on his shoulder as his breathing slowed and deepened as he unknowingly slipped away into a deep pain avoiding sleep.

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Earlier that morning…

Sam woke suddenly, startled into wakefulness. His hand reflexively curled around the carved bone handle of the knife that he placed under his pillow every night before he slipped into his haunted dreams. It had not always been like this, there had been a time when he had not had to worry about who, or what, would invade his room in the middle of the night. That had been before, before… Sam angrily thrust that thought into the back of his mind, and instead tuned his every sense into focusing and finding the cause of what had wakened him.

Finely tuned nerves sensed someone standing behind him, alongside the bed. Sam grasped the knife tightly and swiftly spun over in his bed, lunging out at the figure dull and blurry in the dim early dawn light of the motel room.

"Argghhh" yelled the figure darting back swiftly, desperately trying to get out of reach of the long silver blade.

"Argghhh" Sam yelled, as his arm and chest were suddenly engulfed in burning wetness. Despite the suddenly onslaught of pain, Sam rose swiftly up from the bed and prepared to slash out with the knife again, when suddenly he froze as he remembered. Remembered he wasn't alone any more.

"Damn Sam" yelled Dean, shaking his hand to cool off the burning hot coffee that he had spilled in his rapid retreat away from Sam and his wicked knife.

Dean leaned over and flicked on the bedside light, throwing a dull illuminating light out into the dullness of a grey dawn morning light as it was slowly filtering in through the crack in the motel rooms curtains.

"Dammit Dean" Sam yelled back, "What the hell do you think you are doing? I could have killed you!" Angrily Sam stepped away from his brother and put his foot into the puddle of the remainder of the coffee that Dean had been out in the early morning dawn hours to bring back for Sam.

"Dammit, to hell and back Dean" Sam yelled, storming off across the room to the bathroom. "You can damn well clean that up". So saying this, Sam entered the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean starred after his angry brother, stunned at the intensity of Sam's outburst. Sure the coffee had been hot and Sam had ended up wearing most of it, and also too Sam had been in a deep, if not peaceful, sleep when he had been awakened. Dean still couldn't account for the anger that Sam had shown towards him.

Sam would never had reacted like that, not before… and not knowing how much like Sam his reaction was, Dean angrily shoved the line of thought he had been following to the back of his mind. Sighing, Dean turned around and started looking for a cloth to wipe up the spilled coffee he had so recently bought.

In the bathroom, after violently slamming the door, Sam rapidly turned on the taps and leaned against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, waiting for the steam to start roiling out the shower recess. With the tiles cooling his scalded flesh his anger melted away, leaving him wondering at the degree of anger he had felt.

In the back recesses of his mind, in places no one could go, Sam admitted to himself that he was a fairly emotional young man. Or rather, he quietly corrected in his mind, he felt the emotions more deeply than most other young men. Sam had always felt a deep sense of embarrassment at the way he descended into gloomy and sometimes tearful moods. Neither Dean nor his dad had ever shown even a third of the depths of his emotion that Sam did, and Sam hated that. Mind you, came the quiet voice that Sam occasionally heard in the quietness of his mind, they both had all the emotional depths of a teaspoon.

Sam's mind was drawn back to the incident that had just occurred and admitted, at least in private, that maybe he had over-reacted just a little. Well, alright, maybe a lot. Sam had become used to having the room to himself and not having any one else making noises or sudden movements in the last five months. Now, with Dean's return Sam had to become used to having Dean around again. Sam's mind tried to shift towards Dean's sudden reappearance and Sam stiffened. He pushed himself off the wall and stepped almost angrily into the hot water.

"Damn, damn, damn" Sam roared, stepping rapidly out of the near boiling water. He quickly spun the cold water tap encouraging the deluge of much cooler water into his shower. Sam gingerly stepped under the deluge and shivered slightly at the coolness of the water temperature. He delayed turning the cold water tap down, enjoying the icy coldness spreading into the burns across his shoulder, arm and chest.

Sam jumped as the sound of angry pounding that started on the bathroom door.


	2. Chapter 2

Idea's mine, Boys aren't.

Note: Hope this is going ok... Fills the gap of what happens when Dean returns from hell.

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DEAN'S RETURN

Chapter 2: Too Late.

"Sam," Dean's anxious and loud voice came through the bathroom door. "You all right bro, what's the matter? What happened?"

Sam flushed with embarrassment in the shower. It would be a long night in hell before he told Dean what had just happened to him. He knew Dean would tease him endlessly if he admitted to burning himself with the shower water. Sam could see it now, every time Sam went into the bathroom to have a shower, Dean would be there pretending concern, offering to run his shower for him. Annoying the crap out of him.

"Nothing Dean" Sam answered loudly, "Nothing happened, I'm fine"

"Sam, you yelled" Dean reasoned through the door.

"Dean I'm fine, just leave me alone," Sam shouted back, anger flaring again in his voice.

Outside the bathroom Dean took a reflexive step back from the door and stared at it, trying to fathom out his younger brother. Sam was never this angry, well rarely, and Dean conceded it was usually only when they had been much younger and Dean had really annoyed Sam, that Sam had shown this amount of anger. Dean's mind rethought, and he amended silently, - or when Sam and their dad got in the same room.

Dean wandered back into the bedroom and sat on his bed, rummaging in his bag and bringing out his whetstone. Leaning over to Sam's bed, he picked up the knife Sam had dropped after he had so nearly ripped Dean open from navel to neck. Spiting onto the whetstone, Dean began the enjoyable task of sharpening his brother's knife, his mind replaying the events that happened so recently.

Sam stayed under the shower for a long time. His mind skittering back and forth as he tried to trying to sort out his feelings. He admitted that some of the problems he was having were due to having to readjust to his brother's reappearance. During the time that Dean had been….away…. Sam had survived by himself. Not only had he survived, he had hunted successfully, saving quiet a few people in the process. Sam briefly replayed some his solo hunts in his mind and felt that he hadn't done too badly at all. Then suddenly, in his mind came the end of a demon and Sam saw himself standing in the middle of a room, his hands raised, palms facing outwards, and the screaming, the terrible screaming coming from the demons mouth.

In that moment Sam groaned and placed his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes, as if trying to erase the pictures in his mind he had just watched.

"Sam, you okay dude?" Dean's voice penetrated Sam's private agony and his mind jerked angrily back from the image he was seeing.

"I'm fine Dean, just getting out" Sam answered.

"Just wondering what you were doing in there man, you've been in there for a while"

Sam frowned at Dean's innuendo and turned the taps off the shower. He grabbed the towel of the wall and started to run the towel angrily over his hair. Dean was really starting to get to him. Why should Dean run his life? Hadn't Sam managed to survive and kill some mighty fine demons when Dean was ….away. Sam felt his temper rising and realised that he was getting angry –again. As he reached for his shirt Sam deliberately flexed his shoulders and neck, trying to relax his muscles to get rid of the tension he felt. He finished dressing quickly and walked over to the door and opened it – and jumped back in surprise.

"What the hell is wrong with you Dean?" Sam snarled at Dean, who was standing somewhat comically with his hand raised ready to rap on the door again.

"Can't I take a shower without you smothering me Dean? You know I am a grown man, perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need you to tell me when to shower or when to come out. I managed perfectly well by myself you know when you left. I survived man, I hunted and I saved people." Sam paused for a breath, but Dean jumped in quickly.

"Sam, man I have no idea what you're talking about. I know you're grown up; I was concerned about you man. And yeah, you did survive and you did hunt and yeah, you probably even saved some people Sam, but at what price? Man, what has happened to you Sam?"

Dean forged ahead deliberately not looking at Sam's face so he wouldn't get side tracked by the hurt he was bound to see.

"Sam, you are not the powder keg person here. I am, that's my job, but dude, since I came back it's like …You know, I've never seen you lose it so much ever Sam. Ever. Not when we were kids, not after Jess, not after Dad. Sam, what happened to you man?"

Sam deliberately shouldered past Dean and walked over to his bed and dropped his towel on it. Dean followed him determined this was not going to be swept under the carpet.

"Sam, don't walk away from me man" Dean called to Sam.

"Dean, just leave me alone" Sam snapped.

"No Sam, I'm not leaving this" Dean answered.

The tendons in Sam's neck stood out as he clenched his teeth.

"Dean, I'm telling you, drop it" Sam growled out between clenched teeth.

"No Sam, no, I'm not dropping it. Tell me what happened, what's with you?"

Sam clenched his fists tightly at his sides and turned to face Dean.

"Last time Dean" Sam warned, "I mean it, leave me alone"

Dean reached out to put his hand on Sam's shoulder, sensing his anger.

Sam reacted. He reached out and knocked Dean's hand away. He started to push past Dean, intending to leave the room, when Dean reached out to stop Sam from leaving.

Sam erupted. He turned blindingly fast and without thinking swung his right fist into Dean's chin. He hit out with all the might he possessed. Dean being totally unprepared for Sam's sudden attack didn't have time to react, let alone protect himself. He took Sam's hit smack on his jaw bone. His head rocked back, and he flew across the bed behind him. After he hit the bed, Dean fell in a limp boned way that Sam had seen before. He knew that he had knocked Dean unconscious.

His anger abruptly leaving him, Sam drew in a shaking scared breath. His knuckles ached and he suspected he broken at least one or two. He dreaded going closer to Dean and finding out what damaged he done to his brother. Sam stood frozen to the spot for several moments and eventually, hesitantly, he moved over to where his brother lay spreadeagle on the bed. He looked down at Dean's face and couldn't help but notice the spreading bruise that covered the lower part of Dean's left jaw. It looked suspiciously like it was swelling rapidly. Sam began to wonder about the possibility of whether he had broken Dean's jaw. The full horror of what he had just done swam over Sam and sweat popped out all over Sam's forehead. Sam felt sick and the room suddenly felt overwhelmingly suffocating and Sam couldn't bear the idea of staying in the room one second more.

Barely restraining himself from running, Sam walked rapidly across the room and grabbed the room key. At the doorway, Sam turned to glance back to Dean and then turned back, opened the door and walked out into the pale, early morning sunlight.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean slowly and with great agony groaned his way back to consciousness. He put his hand up to his face and winced. His mind was foggy and Dean struggled for a brief moment to remember what had attacked him. Then suddenly it hit him – Sam! Sam had hit him, and the way his face felt, Sam had him with all he had. Man, he so totally hadn't seen that coming!

Dean sat up groggily, and bit back a groan as his face felt the sudden movement and complained in every nerve ending Dean possessed. It felt like he had been hit with a metal pipe. The world swam in and out of focus momentarily, and Dean bit back the impulse to curse his brother and his dreadful temper.

Dean frowned at that thought. He shook his head and instantly regretted the movement. He slowly pulled himself up the bed, fighting down the urge to throw up what ever remained in his stomach from the previous night. Sighing and breathing deeply, Dean rested his head against the cool of the wall, waiting for the blurring and throbbing in his head to go away. The world finally settled down and he started thinking about Sam, especially the Sam of the last 4 weeks.

There was no doubt about it- Sam had changed from the brother he had known before he had gone …away.


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, still looking on e-bay for the boys tho'.

A/N: Sorry it's so long, but it kinda sets up the situation for the remainder of the story – I figured it would be better in one hit instead of' two.

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DEAN'S RETURN

CHAPTER 3 – RUNNING

Sam strode across the hotel car park, trying hard not to run. He came to the sidewalk and didn't even pause, so deep in his thought was he.

SCREEEECCHHHHHHHHHH. HOONNKKKKKK HOOONNNKKKKK

"Ya stupid Moron, wake up you dopey looking idiot." Sam realised the abuse being thrown around was being hurled straight at him, and as his eyes and mind finally joined forces and started working together Sam finally understood how close he had come to dying.

The old yellow charger was stopped not two inches away from Sam's knee. Sam could reach out with his fingers and touch the black three inch wide racing stripes painted onto the car's bonnet. Sam's fingers involuntarily flexed and Sam let out a pain filled gasp as his bruised and battered knuckles objected.

Sam grabbed his injured right hand with his left hand and stood momentarily, waiting for the throbbing and nausea to ebb away.

HOONNKKKKKKKKKKKKK HONK HONK HONK HOOONNNKKKKKK went the horn, it being impatiently thumped by the scruffy young teenager in the driver's seat.

"Move it on stupid" the youth leaned out the window and yelled at Sam.

Sam refrained from answering; instead he gathered his shattered wits together and finished his interrupted journey across the road.

Having made it to the relative safety of the footpath, Sam's mind again wandered off, flickering back repeatedly to his brother's face as Sam had left him.

"Damn, Damn Damn" Sam repeated almost in litany style. "Dean why couldn't you listen?

You should have left me alone man, I warned you"

With these thoughts going around and round in his mind Sam stumbled through a children's play ground and only just managed to save himself from a nasty face planting in the dirt by grabbing hold of a children's swing chain. Holding himself upright, he shook his head as if to banish the thoughts that swamped his mind.

"Tommy. Tommy, come here" Sam heard a young woman's voice call out sharply.

Looking around Sam saw a young woman standing at the edge of the sand filled playground, her eyes flickering rapidly from Sam and then to a young toddler, and then back to Sam again. Clearly the young woman had taken one look at Sam and come to a rather erroneous conclusion.

"Thomas James Bradley Cook, you get your little butt over right now" the young woman anxiously called to the little boy.

Thomas James Bradley Cook thought Sam. Poor kid, what a name!!! Sam smiled slightly at this thought and heard the young woman give a startled gasp of fear.

Sam looked up and saw the fright emblazoned on the young woman's face. Sam tried to smile kindly, hoping to convey the idea that he was not a threat to her or the child. He then turned and walked away from the children's playground. He made it safely, without tripping, out of the sand filled playground and carried on walking until he had moved a reasonable distance away from the playground. Hoping it was far enough away from the swings to put the young woman's mind at ease, Sam sank down onto a picnic table with a low groan. He cradled his aching and throbbing right hand to his chest, covering it protectively with his left hand. Sam lowered his head onto his chest and longed for the pain to just ebb away.

While waiting for the throbbing of the pain to ease, Sam's mind wandered here and there. Inhaling deeply Sam smelled the sweet fresh scent of new mown grass. He also realised that he could smell the perfume of some flowers. Daisy's he thought, maybe roses? Sam mentally shrugged. Hell, he'd never know what it was to live in a house with a garden, let alone know what sort of smell flowers gave off.

Absorbed in the smells, Sam's other sense flickered into life. He identified the buzzing of flies, or maybe bees. He heard the excited squeal of a child, and somewhere far away, he heard the barking of a dog. Somewhere behind him he heard two voices, a man's and a young woman's. Sam realised after a moment that it was the same female voice that had called the toddler when he had been in the playground.

What was it about the sand filled playground? Sam could almost hear Dean's voice warning him about the playground. No, Sam corrected himself. No just any playground, just the sand filled ones.

Sam's mind scrabbled around trying to remember the warning from Dean. It was so close, but he just couldn't grab it and bring it into his mind.

"Excuse me Sir, are you okay?" a deep male voice said, disturbing Sam's ruminations

Sam's head jerked up and with a sinking feeling, his eyes absorbed the visage standing before him.

"No, thank you officer, I'm fine" Sam told the police officer standing right in front of him.

"You sure Sir, you don't look find to me, and you sure didn't seem fine to the young lady over there" replied the policeman, nodding to the where the young woman had been moments before.

"Oh, that." Sam answered. "No, I am really quite fine Sir. And I'm sorry if I scared her or the little boy," Sam added.

The police man bent forward a little bit more.

"So you did notice the child then?" The police officer queried, staring at Sam.

"Hey, it wasn't like that" Sam protested suddenly realising that the police officer was wondering if Sam was a predator of young child. At this thought Sam's face flushed.

"Uhuh, I'm sure it wasn't sir. But the young lady said you stared at her and the young boy"

"No Sir," Sam corrected the officer, "I didn't stare until after I heard what she called him"

"And that would be?" Queried the police officer

"Thomas James Bradley Cook" Sam answered, "I just felt sorry for the little guy and I looked to see if he was okay."

"Sorry?" the police officer looked puzzled.

"Sure, "Sam answered "Could you imagine trying to spell that name in kindy?"

The police officer smiled and then the smile faded as he caught sight of Sam's swollen, bruised and bloody knuckles.

Sam flushed even redder.

"I can explain" he told the officer.

Drawing a breath Sam gave the police officer a somewhat edited version of what had happened that morning.

The police officer stood back and shrugged.

"Son," he said "I'm gonna give you two bits of advice - for free." He checked Sam out to make sure he was listening.

"First, you get your sorry ass back to your brother and tell him how sorry you are you lost your temper. No self respecting man does something like you just did, for the reasons you just gave me. Not unless he's either lying or he's got anger issues" The police officer quirked his eye brow at Sam, and Sam nodded to show he was listening to the older man.

"Secondly," the officer went on, "You need to get those knuckles seen to. Nothing creates infections like the bugs and crap that are in someone's mouth. Tomorrow when you wake, if you've not had something done about them, boy you will only have 3 knuckles left. The other two will have gotten gangrene over night and dropped off. You hear me boy?"

"Yes sir, I hear you" Sam answered the police officer.

"Well, is your back side nailed to that bench or you gonna start walking?" the police officer grumpily bossed Sam.

Sam stood up and promptly swayed drunkenly. The police officer put out a steadying arm and Sam waited for the world to stop swirling all around. Helped along by the police officer, Sam found himself being led to the police car and being helped into the back seat. At the sound of the door snicking shut, Sam instantly felt his nerves stand on end. This was so wrong. Dean would kill him for being in a police car. However, before Sam could event think about an escape plan, the police officer slid into the driver's seat and pulled the car away from the park.

Sam's mind drifted and before he knew it the car had stopped. Looking around, Sam realised they had stopped out side a hospital. Sam waited for the police officer to open the door, thinking rapidly, trying to formulate an escape plan. However, Sam felt that even the gods were against him that day for the officer not only helped Sam out of the car, but then assisted him into the hospital, booked him into emergency and waited with Sam until he was called into the next room.

"You mind what I told you about setting this situation straight, son?" The police officer prodded Sam gently as Sam stood to go with the emergency room nurse.

"Yes Sir, I sure do and I…er… thanks for staying and helping" Sam stammered out ungracefully.

"Just doing my job son, just doing my job" With a smile and nod of his head the police officer headed off towards the exit doors.

Sam turned to watch him, wondering if he could maybe escape yet. However that thought was dashed as he saw the police officer purchase a cup of steaming coffee, open his car door climb in and sit back sipping his coffee. It seemed to Sam that the police officer was settling in for the long haul.

Sam sighed and then realised the ER nurse was standing there watching him rather suspiciously.

"You coming or you running?" She asked somewhat pointedly.

Sam flushed, and started walking towards the ER doors.

Four hours later Sam was privately thanking who ever was looking out for him that day for the new –if slightly illegal… well ok, Sam silently amended really illegal – credit card that was currently resting inside his wallet. His hand had been x-rayed, stitched, injected, poked and prodded and as of now, resting pain free within a slightly damp half-cast, nestled snugly in a secure sling. Sam had to admit, it did feel way better.

The doctor swished back into the cubicle where Sam was waiting with a prescription for pain killers and a letter detailing exactly what damage had occurred to the hand. Sam stood up and swayed, and then steadied himself on the bed.

The doctor looked at Sam, and Sam nodded

"I'm fine, really."

The doctor sighed and gave Sam the bits of paper.

"Ok, then Mr Rubble, rest and pain relief are the key to this injury. Don't forget, I need to see you in 6 days for the stitches to come out, and then 4 weeks later for another check up and to make sure everything is healing ok. Please do the wise thing and rest your hand. Let it heal because if you don't the only way to fix this type of injury is surgery."

"Yes Doctor, sure thing, thanks again" Sam replied, eagerly waiting to get out of the hospital. 30 minutes later, Sam was free. Sam breathed deeply, enjoying his new found sense of freedom before heading towards the rank of taxi waiting for a hire. As he climbed into the taxi, Sam's phone rang. He scrunched around and lifted it out. Looking at the name displayed, Sam restrained a low groan.

DEAN

Sam briefly contemplated his options. Texting was out, and at the moment he just felt way too spent to even think about talking to Dean. His mind, filled with pain killers, floated away from Dean and suddenly Sam remembered the warning Dean had given him years ago about sand filled playgrounds'.

Sam chortled, pleased to have the memory back. Dean, always watching out for Sam had warned him that the kitties he liked to play with used the same sand that Sam liked to dig in as a giant toilet. Sam had never felt the same again about those kitties after that.

Realising the taxi had come to a final stop Sam looked up and realised they were at the hotel that he had all but bolted from half a day ago. And worse Sam realised, there standing in the shadows of the doorway was Dean.

A really pissed off looking Dean! Sam sighed, payed the driver and turned around and started walking up to the door. Reaching the door, Sam sensed Dean standing there but he felt too embarrassed and ashamed to actually look at his brother. Dean stepped back and let Sam in the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Sam, reaching the table and chairs turned around and finally looked at Dean. Sam chocked back a cry. Dean's lower face was swollen and showing a multitude of different colours. Sam swayed and felt his heart crack.

"Oh Dean" he croaked out "I'm so sorry brother, I'm so sorry."

Dean stood where he was looking at Sam.

"Sam, what hell happened you?" Dean managed to mumble out past his swollen jaw.

Sam crumpled in on himself and finally admitted that things were not okay, with or without his brother.

With tears threatening to overflow his eyes, Sam shrugged and replied,

"I don't know Dean, I just don't know"

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Hope it was ok despite the length.... thanks for reading


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